


The Skittering Horror

by TajaReyul



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other, Possible Bestiality, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TajaReyul/pseuds/TajaReyul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something is under Ron's bed at the Burrow, but no one in his family believes him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Skittering Horror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmoretteHD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmoretteHD/gifts).



> Written for hp_adoptaprompt on LJ and originally from a prompt left at hp_darkarts. The title is an homage of sorts to Lovecraftian fiction. That alone should tell you this is not at all the sort of thing I usually write. Ron is not underage in the UK in this fic, but sixteen may be under the age of consent in countries where people may be reading this, so this is your warning for that. I took inspiration from [this webcomic](http://oglaf.com/8legs/) which is decidedly not work or child safe. Please don't click if you don't want to be spoiled.

"I think there's something under my bed," said Ron, rubbing at his arm where there was a bruise.

"There is not, Ron," his mother said huffily. "I just cleaned your room yesterday, before you came home. I found a pair of your pants that were about to develop basic intelligence and enough dust bunnies to stuff a duvet, but that's all."

"How do you explain this bruise?" he argued, showing her his arm.

"You probably flung your arm out in your sleep and caught it on the corner of your bedside table."

"There's noises, too," he muttered but she didn't answer that. There were always noises in the Burrow, with four-sometimes-nine people and a ghoul.

* * *

"I know you two are playing a trick on me and I want it to stop," Ron declared from the door to the parlour. Back for a home-cooked meal, Fred and George were draped over the furniture waiting for Molly to call everyone to the table.

George leaned back and let his head hang over the arm of the chair. Looking at Ron upside-down, he said, "Don't know what you're on about Ronnikins."

"You know _exactly_ what I'm 'on about'. You and Fred put something invisible under my bed. I hear it shuffling about at night. I'm not getting any sleep."

"Ginny says she can hear you snoring all the way down in her room—without Extendable Ears," argued Fred. "Try again."

Ron went red to the tips of his ears. "...I'm not sleeping very well. At any rate, I want you to stop what you're doing. Even though--"

"Even though?" Fred and George asked in unison. Merlin, it was creepy when they did that.

"Never mind," he sighed and turned away. How could he tell them what he didn't even want to admit to himself? "Just stop it."

* * *

Enough was enough, Ron decided. He couldn't have some invisible creature under his bed making noises when Harry came to stay at the end of the summer, and he certainly couldn't be having the same sorts of vividly realistic wet dreams he'd been having recently with his best mate in the same room. He wasn't completely sure the invisible creature and his wet dreams were connected, but it seemed likely, considering the timing.

Bloody hell, what kind of creature lurked under the bed and gave a bloke erotic dreams? Hagrid sure as hell hadn't covered anything like that in his Care of Magical Creatures lessons. Ron had a plan, though. He'd sneaked two Invigorating Potions from his mother's potions' cabinet, and downed them right before climbing into bed. Hopefully, they'd keep him awake and he'd catch the creature when it started moving about.

Ron never had so much trouble lying still before. Itches kept popping up—his nose, the bottom of his foot, the back of his arm. Then he had an almost uncontrollable urge to move his legs. After what seemed an eternity, his patience was rewarded with a stealthy scuttling noise. He felt his light, summer duvet pulled down an inch at a time. He was wearing a tee shirt and pyjama bottoms, but he still shivered with the loss of his covers. The mattress shifted as the creature, whatever it was, climbed up on the foot of the bed. Keeping his eyes closed and his breathing even, Ron gripped his wand where it was half-hidden under his leg. The weight moved forward slowly until it hovered over his hips. Dry _things_ , like sticks touched him gently, moving his tee shirt up slightly, plucking at the drawstring of his pyjamas and hooking around the waistband. He felt something nudge his cock, which responded predictably to the light touch.

" _Lumos,_ " Ron whispered harshly. He blinked in the sudden wandlight and then opened his eyes wide in shock. His heart pounded so hard his tee shirt moved with the force of his pulse. Crouched over his groin was his worst nightmare given hideous form. Merlin's baggy y-fronts, why couldn't it have stayed invisible? Eight eyes regarded him, unblinking. Eight legs extended from the bulbous body, two holding the waist of his pyjama pants down to expose his traitorously erect penis. What looked like bat's wings angled up from the thing's back, half unfurled. And the mouth, oh god, the mouth...

The thing's mouth was wrapped around his cock, warm and wet. It looked like...bloody hell, it looked like a woman's fanny. There was even a fleshy protrusion above the mouth, and the whole...area pulsed just like the witch's had in the twins' porno magazine. He could feel it working, sucking on his penis. Now Ron understood why there'd been very little evidence left behind, even though based on the strength of his dreams, his bedding should have been near saturated with his seed. This thing was _swallowing_ his spendings.

As that realisation hit, Ron's body convulsed with the strongest orgasm he'd ever had, and for a brief second, he hated his cock. Then all thought was wiped away by the explosion of sensation. His vision blanked out completely, even though his eyes were still wide open, and a strangled groan tumbled from his lips. His eyes burned so he blinked for the first time since he'd got his first look at the creature that still sat on him. Sliding its mouth off his prick, the thing carefully pulled his pants back up. It reached out one foreleg to stroke his quivering abdomen. He shuddered.

Pictures and emotions crawled crabwise into Ron's mind. _The memory of injecting paralysing venom. Eagerness and hunger. Haste. Regret._

Then it flapped its hideous wings, and flew out the open window. He lay there a moment before grabbing for his duvet. His wand clattered to the floor as he wrapped his covers tightly around himself. Shivering uncontrollably, he stared wildly from darkened corner to shadowed alcove for another hour before venturing out of his room. He drew a scalding bath, and soaked in it until it cooled to merely uncomfortably hot. Then he scrubbed everywhere the creature had touched, particularly his turncoat cock, raw.

For the rest of the summer break, Ron was withdrawn and quiet. Whenever his mother or anyone questioned him, he said he was merely worried about Harry and how the Muggles he lived with were treating him. He kept the shutters in his room locked tight, and the windows closed, even on the hottest days, preferring instead to rely on his inexpertly cast Cooling Charms.

When Hermione arrived, just looking at her made him uncomfortable. She started nagging him as soon as she'd settled her things in Ginny's room, and he snarled back. They sniped at one another all day. It was so normal and ordinary that it wore the horrifying edge off the nearly month-old...incident, and he was finally able to sleep though the night. By the time Harry arrived, Ron's appetite was back and his moodiness could be explained as fits of adolescent angst.

He never did tell anyone what had happened, but though he took the secret to his grave, Ron never, ever forgot.


End file.
